


on the same wavelength

by chonkytheslur



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: And They Were Teammates, Canon Compliant, Getting Together, M/M, gratuitous use of zimbits parallels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29544840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chonkytheslur/pseuds/chonkytheslur
Summary: Hall and Murray putting Jack and Bittle on a line together was no fluke. They knew it would work.It did for them, after all.
Relationships: Coach Hall/Coach Murray
Comments: 14
Kudos: 33





	on the same wavelength

**Author's Note:**

> moving some of my tumblr ficlets onto ao3 and editing them so of course i had to start with everyone's favorite gay hockey dads <3
> 
> written for the lovely @baconpncakes on tumblr

“Hall. Murray. I want to try you two on the same line.”

Murky shrugs and barrels out onto the ice, but Johnny stays behind for a moment. “Uh, Coach?” he says, eyebrows furrowed. “We’ve never played on the same line before…” He trails off, fiddling with his stick awkwardly. Murray’s a damn good player, _he knows this_ , but Johnny’s a player of habit. Familiarity and persistence are what make up his game. 

He’s not good at trying new things.

“Your playing styles are complementary,” Coach says, patting him on the shoulder. “I have a good feeling about this. Just give it a shot, Hall. Trust us.”

He shoots her another apprehensive look but he follows Murky onto the ice and he does what he does best: he plays some damn good hockey.

Murky's there before Hall passes, every time, to the point where he doesn't even have to look up to know his teammate's where he needs to be. It's almost scary how intuitive, how natural, it is. He doesn't second guess their chemistry though, and the second the clock runs out, the entire team is barreling onto them in one massive celly.

Coach gives him a knowing look before he makes his way back into the locker room, flushed and smiling and deliberately not looking at Murky. “Yeah, alright,” he mutters so only she can hear. “It’s a good line-up.” She beams, and pats him on the back again.

Murky’s a good player - Johnny’s taken mental note of his style before and come back a little envious - but he’s never had the experience of playing with him like they just did. Like there was a link between their sticks and the puck. 

He tries not to think too hard as he changes, staring down at his equipment like he always does. They play well together - _more_ than well - but it doesn’t have to mean anything. 

His teammates praise him about his goal and assist, whooping and hollering, and after a moment, he lets himself join in too. This is about hockey, he reminds himself; it’s always been about hockey. It’s as simple as that.

His heart is still dancing twenty minutes later when he leaves the game.

* * *

They win twenty games together before Johnny’s able to admit what he’s been denying all along.

“Hey, uh, Murky?” Johnny waits until everyone else filters out before he speaks. He eyes Fuller’s filthy stall and wrinkles his nose - the locker room was definitely not the right place for this, but Murky’s looking at him expectantly, so it’s too late now. 

“We’re friends, right?” he says, because he’s a coward. At least he can admit now: they _are_ friends. It took a few weeks, but they got there, and Johnny’s about to risk throwing it all away.

Murky nods, laughing a little. “You alright there, Hall?” he says. “We’ve gotten coffee together the past three days in a row, man. We’re friends.”

He takes in a deep breath, and continues, forcing himself to look Murky in the eyes. “What if we were more?”

Murky’s face, already a little flushed, turns bright red. His mouth opens, closes again, like he’s mentally stuttering. 

John closes his eyes. It’s what he should’ve expected.

He opens them again after a second, and Murky’s a foot away, slowly pulling off Johnny’s glasses. “We could be,” he says, and when he kisses him, his lips are soft. Johnny pulls him in closer, because finally, _he can have this._

They walk out of the locker room blushing and giggling like schoolgirls, but Johnny can’t find it in himself to care when Murky’s hand is in his.

* * *

“Right, we got Johnson starting in the net, Oluransi, Birkholtz, Einhardt, Zimmermann and Bittle.” The boys all file out of the locker room, but Zimmermann stays behind. 

As Jack expresses his doubts, Hall has to push down a smile. “Jack, we know, but Bittle’s speed just makes sense on the right wing. And we’ve seen the way you two play together - it’ll work.” 

His husband shoots him a quick look before he reminds Jack, “You’re a better player when you’re with Bittle.”

“...Oh.” 

They watch him leave, flushed and a little slow in his movements. Hockey is Jack’s language, just like it was Johnny’s decades ago back in Juniors. He has a feeling it will sink in eventually.

“Do you think we’re meddling too much?” Hall says quietly, once he’s out of earshot.

Murray laughs and pulls him in for a quick kiss before they join the game. “In all honesty, probably. But I don’t care,” he says. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

They walk to the rink together, hand in hand, easy as it’s ever been. It’s always been about more than just hockey.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://biginnyweasley.tumblr.com/)


End file.
